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CHAPTER 45
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2021-05-02 15:06:45"You must be hungry."
This is what I said - the words that sparked the fire. The catalyst for our fallout. Simple words that managed to anger him.
I walked over to Aza's vanity and used my old cotton shirt to dry my hair in the mirror. "When's the last time you've fed?" I asked him.
I heard him growl from behind me. "Lisa," he said. "This ain't funny."
"I never said it was. I was just making an observation. Your vampiric powers strengthen the longer you don't feed, which is why you're so easily annoyed and angered with me right now."
"I'm always annoyed with you. You're a pain in the ass."
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** Hezekiah's mouth met mine, and I responded with the same urgency. We kissed deeply, almost like we couldn't get enough of each other. His hand moved from my neck up onto my head, keeping it still. My hands gripped the back of his neck as I pushed my tongue into his mouth. It was frantic, both of us eager to taste every inch of each other again. Hezekiah then pushed me onto the bed and positioned himself in front of me on his knees, staring at me and adjusting his eyes down my naked flesh. My nipples were hard, legs quivering for what was coming next. He grabbed my foot, lifted it so the sole rested on his solid chest, spreading my thighs in the process. He caressed my leg gently before he began to trail kisses, staring at my ankle, and almost making it to my calf until I nudged him. He stopped, looked at me with impatient eyes,
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** I was scared to open the door. I had my hand on the handle for a very long time, stress sweating, unable to bring myself to open it and walk into the hallway. I had to face Aza; there was no other option. But what would I say? Would I apologize? Eventually, I mustered up the courage to open the door, but the person standing on the other side startled me; Aza. I expected her to be downstairs at the head of the dinner table, trying to rid her brain of what she saw, but frankly, she was more inclined to meet with me face to face instead of waiting until dinner was over. We met each other's eyes in an awkward fashion. I knew the image of Hezekiah fucking me from behind butt naked was burned into her memory. She looked uncomfortable, leaning against the hallway wall with her arms
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** My hands were firm on the steering wheel as Mikael and I journeyed through the darkened road. It had been one hour of us in the car, the city turning into country and the road transitioning into dirt and moist earth beneath my car's wheels. We kept conversation minimal the first hour because we were both nervous. Mikael, however, was more anxious than I was. He had never been to the Bayou of the Shunned, but like everyone else, had heard tales about the cursed swamp and the witch that ruled over it as its Supreme Sorceress. Sajida was the bedtime story mambos and houngans told their kids about to keep them in line; in the black community, Sajida was "that" woman that the children of voodooists were scared to encounter when the lights went out - Similar toLa Lloronain Mexican folklore, a tale told to children to frighten them. Only Sajida wasn't a legend like&
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** "Sorry about that there dock. Been meaning to get that thing fixed for ages." Mikael and I were inside Sajida's treehouse, following Sajida through the hall. Our steps were slow and gracious; careful. I was still shaken up by the shadows in the water. I thought that they were going to seep through the walls or come up the ladder. The door was closed now, but I couldn't get the image of them out of my mind, and I couldn't get the way they said my name out of my head, either. There was a yearning in their voices. It sounded almost like a cry for help. This haunted me the most. Not that they were animated shadows, but they sounded desperate and hopeless as they held onto me. I wanted to ask Sajida about them. Not only was she familiar with these shadows, but this was her bayou - she controlled everyone and everything here.
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** "Are you crazy?!" Mikael was furious. And he did have every right to be. I had asked Sajida the Shunned to perform a lave tet upon me, while also agreeing to spend the night at her treehouse. It was an impulsive decision, but I was so desperate for answers that I was willing to do anything. I didn't know how to respond to him. The reality of the situation finally kicked in the moment Sajida left the study and went downstairs. The Damiyas continued lightly clawing at my ankle, staring up at me but of course, unable to say anything. "It's the only way, Mikael." I said to him. "Sajida's willing to give me the answers I need. She's theonlyone that's willing to do this."
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I stared at Marie Laveau for a very long time. It was the only thing I could think to do, because words failed me. The most well-known voodoo practitioner of our time; everyone in New Orleans knew her name. Anyone who practiced voodoo knew who she was. There were books written about her. Movies and television programs made about her. People worshiped her, visiting her grave every day in the hundreds to leave offerings in the hopes that she would bless them in return. Marie Laveau was an incredible woman, having left her mark in history. And not only was she my ancestor—not only did we share the same blood—but she was my djab; this woman chose me to follow in her afterlife. She chose me to guide. Marie Laveau chose me. Accounts of her physical appearance varied often; there weren't a
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I opened my eyes and recognized my surroundings. The room was dark, but I knew it was the bedroom Sajida allowed Mikael and I to stay in; I had no idea what day it was. My head throbbed and I was thirsty. These were the first two sensations that came to mind. I didn't remember the visions from my lave tet the first few moments of me coming into consciousness, which I was thankful for; I wanted at least a minute of sanity. But once that sanity ended, I was brought back into the harsh reality. I felt like I couldn't breathe. There were weights on my chest, it seemed. In this dark, sweltering heat, I was bombarded with images during my time with my met tet.
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"Something wrong with the check?" The waitress had come back to our booth the moment Hezekiah and the unnamed woman sat down with us. There was an uncomfortable chill lingering in the air, even with the heavy blanket of heat making the humans in the diner sweat bullets. Hezekiah leaned back in his seat and looked straight into this woman's eyes. He was fearless and far from intimidated, even though she had the same venom in her look towards him that she had with me. "No, nothing's wrong. We just gone relax here for a while if that's alright with you?" Hezekiah's comrades all waited for the waitress' answer. I looked around, watching all of them stare at her from all corners of the diner. The pale-skinned vampires stared at her, too, but for a different reason; they all looked as
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** I waited in the living room of Sajida's treehouse. Sasi One had directed me to a chair once I had come up the ladder; Sajida wasn't present. "Mere will be down shortly," she said to me, her skin even more sickly looking than before and her teeth seemingly moments away from falling out due to rot and decay. "Would you like a beverage? Perhaps a cup of tea? Water?" I nodded, "Water would be nice." Sasi One smiled even wider. "Be right back!" she said, pivoting and sashaying down a hallway to the kitchen. I sat alone with my backpack on my lap, looking around at my surroundings. The treehouse wasn't as frightening to me as it was before, and neither was the bayou. The journey here felt like a normality. Maybe it was because th
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** When I awoke, the sun had already risen. It poured into my room, filling it with warmth. I sat up but very slowly; my head was throbbing to the point of it being hard to concentrate on where I was. It took me a few moments to realize that I was in my bedroom, lying in my bed, in my mama's house. The last thing I remembered from the night prior was Abraham threatening to kill Miss Aza. With this memory, I jumped out of bed in a panic, wondering if he had succeeded and oblivious to the events that preceded his threat. I ran out of the room, through the quiet hall and downstairs, yelling her name. The longer the silence carried, the larger my fears grew, I imagined that everyone was at a service for Aza or burying her body in
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I have tried with every fiber of my being to remember the rest of that night from my own account. I have gone through multiplelave tets, have spoken to my ancestors and to the loa, have channeled my djab, have convened with other mambos in an attempt to remember the events that preceded Abraham ordering Hezekiah to give Aza the Gift of Darkness, but it doesn't come to me. Some have told me it's common to black out after possession, so I have settled at that conclusion. I only remember the moment right before Marie Laveau possessed me and the moments after she abandoned my body. Everything between was told to me by others, so this account is stitched together by other witnesses; it is not my own, though I hope it will be one day. **
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** I had locked myself in the guest bedroom with the black box as my only form of company that night. No one came to me; I was left alone, which heightened my suspicions about the truth I had brought to them. I sat on the floor, still dressed in white and covered in dirt and dried sweat. The ball gown lied on the bed, staring back at me. I thought about trying it on; I didn't need to know how it fit, since Jeffrey assured me that the dress was correct to my measurements. But I wanted to see myself in this dress. Is this how Russell Van Doren remembered me one hundred and fifty years in the past—wearing this gown when it was common attire at the time? I expected Hezekiah to knock on the window and let himself in the room, trying to explain himself and his actions; his reasoning f
